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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204797">Aftermath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scherzos/pseuds/scherzos'>scherzos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BioShock 1 &amp; 2 (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Not Beta Read, Other, Post canon, delta doesn't have the big daddy suit anymore, implied subject delta/augustus sinclair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:00:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scherzos/pseuds/scherzos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all part of dealing with the aftermath of Rapture. Learning to live as a person again, learning to move on, even with the pain and grief weighing heavy on his shoulders. This new reality is difficult, it takes some adjusting. Both on his end and on his daughters'. But they do. Ever so slowly, they build their life on the surface together, as a family. Some scars will never fade away and they'll always have some impact, but it's easier to handle them now. And though Johnny often struggles, he soon finds that with time, it gets easier. He finds happiness in seeing his daughters safe and happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Bioshock content in my 2020? More likely than you think! I've written a couple Bioshock drabbles over the pass few months (centered around Cohen's disciples, though) but I haven't posted any. I decided to change that with this Delta/Johnny centric drabble!<br/>As the first tag implies, it doesn't follow canon. Delta lives past the ending of Bioshock 2 and ends up living on the surface with Eleanor and a few of the little sisters he rescued. </p><p>This was intended to be longer but I ran out of words. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the drabble!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doctor Tenenbaum had assured him that the conditioning was gone. He often found himself doubting it, but never spoke a word of it to her. She’d done more than she had to and he wasn’t ungrateful. Still, despite her reassurance, the compulsions came and went, a reminder that the purpose of protector had previously been drilled into him. On the days where letting Eleanor and the girls out of his sight was near unbearable, he found it hard to be trapped in this frail, broken thing he called a body. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, though. At first, every little thing had been painful. Every little movement would tug the infinity of stitches on his body, attempts at eating or drinking felt like swallowing glass and his lungs would burn with every breath. His physical condition improved in time, but he still couldn’t speak nor could he walk for more than a few minutes. He was powerless, really. Unable to protect the little ones and that alone was painful. Nowadays, though, it’s the purgatory he finds himself in that bothers him most. He’s somewhere between a person and a living ghost. Sometimes, but only sometimes, he wishes he could go back to being a monster made of metal. Back then, he didn’t have to spend hours questioning just who he was. He didn’t have to feel, to <em>be</em> so weak. <br/>
<br/>
It’s at Eleanor’s insistence that he takes up painting. She says it’ll help. He protests at first, of course. He doesn’t see the point of such a messy hobby or how it could help him. She ends up being right, as she so often is with these things. Painting becomes a soothing exercise. Delta— no, <em>Johnny</em> — paints the sceneries that remain in his memory. The tall, neon-lit buildings of Rapture, their silvery shapes a stark contrast against the dark water of the northern Atlantic. The ocean floor, with its corals, algae and creatures. Not the slugs, though. They evoke unpleasant memories and they're not particularly fun to paint. He shows Eleanor and the girls those paintings, even lets them have the leftover paint when they want it. The paintings aren’t always nice, just like how his memories aren’t always pleasant. Those paintings are hidden away. It’s therapeutic though, as much as he hates to admit it. Putting the bad memories, the awful experiences onto a canvas. It's like letting them go, more or less. Sometimes he wonders if destroying them would help. He never does, he's content with just painting. Unfortunately for Johnny, hobbies couldn’t fix everything.<br/>
<br/>
Nothing helps the hallucinations. Not even painting, as much as he  loves it. Like the protective compulsions, they came and went. They usually took the form of sounds- the nonsensical rantings of  splicers or the furious shrieks of the big sisters he’d encountered during his time in the underwater city. He could handle those, though. Johnny had gotten used to coping with the feeling of danger around every corner. It was easy to remind himself that this wasn’t Rapture, there was no ADAM, no splicers nor big sisters that were there to hurt the little ones or him. Less often, they were visual. Splatters of blood or paint, silhouettes at the edge of his vision. Still, those he could handle. The ones he couldn’t… they always had to do with <em>him</em>. Sinclair. <br/>
<br/>
Rapture as a whole had left a permanent mark on Johnny. But Augustus Sinclair? He was a completely different story. They’d met twice before their… prolonged partnership. Once before Johnny had lost his freedom and once before he’d become Delta. He’d despised the man, at first. It was only natural. Sinclair had, after all, sold him off to be a guinea pig. He couldn’t recall feeling any of that anger when they’d met a decade later, oddly enough. Maybe he hadn’t been able to remember Sinclair or maybe he was simply too relieved to have found an ally. Either way, his anger had faded over time. Sinclair had been an helpful guide. Eventually, that helpfulness morphed into more of a comforting presence. Johnny remembers the relief that so often flooded his mind whenever the man’s voice would filter through the radio. And when they’d met, face to… diving helmet, on the Atlantic Express, Johnny had expected Sinclair to keep a distance. To recoil away with every little movement the big daddy made. But he hadn’t. Not even once. He'd kept the same casual composure he'd showed over the radio and when they'd seen each other, separated by a thick glass window and metal. And, as Subject Delta, it had been new for him. To have someone willingly come close and <em>stay</em> close, without harmful intent or fear. It made him happy, more than he could communicate. Not that they could converse much, mind you. Even after the conditioning, he could still recall how to form words with his hands and a variety of gestures, but his guide hadn't seemed to understand. It never seemed to matter, though. Sinclair had plenty of stories to tell during their train rides and Johnny was always happy to listen to them. Sinclair had been the first person to show him some form of kindness in a long, long time and that had certainly coloured his view of the businessman. Whenever he spends time recalling the hours they'd spent on the train, sat closely side by side, he feels fondness swell up in his chest.  Deciphering his own feelings had been difficult, at the time. With the conditioning in place, any feeling that wasn't anger or the need to protect was dulled, hard to figure out. In retrospect, he thinks that what he felt towards Sinclair was affection. <em>Love</em>. Johnny hates thinking about it. Because now, the only time he gets to hear Sinclair’s voice is when his ears fill with static from a radio he can never find. A radio that doesn’t exist. The worst of it are the visual hallucinations. The blood, Sinclair trapped in the same diving suit Johnny had once worn. They're painful memories, ones he'd much rather forget entirely. He has to remind himself, time and time again, that it's not his fault. Lamb had given him ultimatum after ultimatum. Acting like the blame fell entirely on him was wrong and unhealthy. Though he'd played an unwilling part in Sinclair's death, Lamb had been the one to orchestrate it. Still, it does little to ease the guilt and pain he feels. Johnny misses him, more than he cares to admit. Not that he admits to much. No, most of it, he buries under layers and layers of either denial or merely avoids it like the plague. <br/>
<br/>
It's all part of dealing with the aftermath of Rapture. Learning to live as a person again, learning to move on, even with the pain and grief weighing heavy on his shoulders. This new reality is difficult, it takes some adjusting. Both on his end and on his daughters'. But they do. Ever so slowly, they build their life on the surface together, as a family. Some scars will never fade away and they'll always have some impact, but it's easier to handle them now. And though Johnny often struggles, he soon finds that with time, it gets easier. He finds happiness in seeing his daughters safe and happy. He finds some in the little things too. Though he's regained his humanity, most of it at least, he can't remember any further than the boat ride that got him to Rapture. And so, every small thing is a new experience once again. The feeling of sunlight on his scarred body, hearing birds sing in the morning and crickets chirp at night. Though he has regrets and he often still mourns his losses, Johnny is happy. Even with the bad days, he doesn't allow himself to fall apart. He has his own makeshift family, and that's more than enough for him. </p>
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